My previous post on my childhood memories have gently nudged my friends to embark on a journey of their past. One of them was the open-air cinema of the past. This was therefore with much nostalgia when I read the comeback of open-air cinema in Sunday Times today.
Typically screened under the starry night in an open space, these open-air cinema kept the children from running around. Besides being mesmerized by the big screen, at times, we would also peer curiously at the big uncle standing at the back of the crowd, manning the projector machine. These constant neck-turning-and-stretching exercise would intensify every time the screen flickered. In terms of sound effect, in place of the cinematic, digitalised effects of today's big screen, the auditory sensation of yester years was on a totally different playing field. It was rich with a whole array of other special effects ranging from the running sound of projector, catching-up conversations of housewives and the occasional leaves-rustling. In particular, the latter was like a precursor to us to scan around for the closest shelther and dash for it at the first drop of rain.
With so many other attractions each vying for the undivided attention from the children, only the best of the best would stand out. This honor undeniably belonged to the film entitled "Jaws". My eyes were transfixed on the white screen which played a thrilling story in front of me. Never mind that occasion flickering, never mind that out-of-tone music due to volume overload, I was spellbound by the built-up of suspense. When the music ended, the show continued in my mind and that night this gullible girl refused to go to toilet for fear that the shark would bolt out from nowhere and tear me apart.
Ahh, those were the good, old days of open-air cinema, made savory with that dash of childish naiveness.